Big Daddy Sinatra 3: The Best of My Love (The Sinatras of Jericho County) (12 page)

Makayla’s
black eyes drowned in his pool of green.
 
It was not that she was inexperienced with casual affairs.
 
She’d had a one-night stand more than once in
her life.
 
But she’d never felt this
strongly about anybody she hit and ran with.
 
Not ever.
 
Which said to her to
run but not hit.
  
“Also,” she said as if
he had not spoken in the interim, “I have an investigation to conduct.
 
I need to be clear-eyed about this
investigation.”
 

“You
can be clear-eyed,” Brent said.
 
And then
he smiled. “It’s not your eyes I’m after.”

Makayla
had to smile too.
 
“Very funny,” she said
as he rubbed his cheek against her cheek.
 
Any second they would be kissing, and she knew it would be over
then.
 
Her look turned serious.
 
“But I’m still going to have to decline your
offer.”
 
She said this, batted her eyes,
and then looked into his.
 
To her shock,
she didn’t see disappointment in his eyes, but hurt.

And
he backed off.
 
He’d never begged a woman
in his life, and he was not starting now.

And
Makayla, who never felt any need to explain herself to any man, felt a need to
explain to him.
 
“You understand why it
wouldn’t be a good idea,” she said.
 
“Don’t you?”

“No,”
Brent replied honestly. “But I understand why you would think so.”
 
He looked into her eyes.
 
“Good night, Makayla,” he said, and headed
for his truck.

Makayla
stood at her door and watched him.
 
She
was not disappointed, or even angry that he didn’t seem to appreciate her
position.
 
She actually felt exhilarated
in a
stay tuned
sort of way, as if
she knew there would be more to come with that tortured soul, and she was
looking forward to it.
 
“Wow,” she said,
as she entered her house.

Brent
felt some kind of way too as he backed out of her driveway.
 
He was disappointed that he didn’t get his
way, but he had a feeling, a very strong feeling, that he would.
 
It was just a matter of time.
 
He smiled as he placed his truck in gear and
drove away.

He
drove past a blue Honda Accord that was parked across the street.
 
The gentleman inside the Honda took the last
of his pictures of Brent driving away.
 
Then he looked at his cell phone video and saw Makayla, inside her home,
undressing and preparing to take a bath.
 
He exhaled.
 
Now he had something
to work with, he thought.

That
same Friday night and Charles was still at the office.
 
It had been a long day.
 
He leaned back in his office chair and
listened attentively as Zim Skivy and Victor Owens, his top two negotiators,
explained their latest bids.

“So
all in all, it looks good,” Zim said.

“No
competition?” Charles asked.

“None
that’s in any position to match our offers,” Zim said.

“We
should easily prevail on all three, boss,” Victor said.
 
“It’s a slam dunk.”

Charles
nodded.
 
“Good,” he said.
 
“That’s what I want to hear.”

“Some
guys were threatening to bid us up,” Zim said, “but that shit didn’t work because
they weren’t sure if we would take the bait.
 
They backed off.”

“I’ve
got to be in New York tomorrow,” Charles said, “but let me know as soon as the
decision comes down.”

“You
still thinking about making a play for that hotel down there?” Zim asked him.

“I’m
thinking about it,” Charles said.
 
“My
wife isn’t too keen on the idea, and I trust her judgment, but I need to see
what I would be getting into before I make a final decision.”

“Mrs.
Sinatra runs the Inn, right?” Victor asked.

“Right,”
Charles said as his cell phone, that sat on his desk, began ringing.
 
He glanced down at the Caller ID.
 
“She knows what running a hotel
involves.
 
And especially running one in
a place like the Big Apple.”
 
When
Charles saw it was his son Donald, he answered.
 
“What’s up?” he asked and leaned back in his chair.

“I’m
at this party, Dad,” Donald said, but Charles could barely hear him for the
background noise.

“You’re
where?” Charles asked.

“I’m
at this house party on Lunden Road,” Donald said.
 
“I’m here with Ash.”

“You
guys okay?”

“We’re
okay.
 
But the thing is, I told her we
had to go, but she won’t come on.
 
I hate
to call you, but she won’t listen to me.”

“You
mean to tell me you’re calling me because Ashley won’t leave a party?”

Zim
looked at Victor and shook his head.
 
“It
must be Donnie,” he said in a low voice.

“It’s
not just that,” Donald said into the phone.
 
“They’re doing drugs at this party.
 
And I mean the hard stuff, Dad.”

Charles
was concerned now.
 
“I know you and Ash
aren’t participating.”

“I’m not,”
Donald said.

“Ash
better not be either,” Charles said sharply.

“I
don’t know what she’s doing.
 
She’s real
slick about it.
 
But it’s a bad scene
over here, and I don’t know how to handle it.
 
I would have called Tony or Bobby, but Ash isn’t afraid of either one of
them.
 
She’s afraid of Brent, but you
know how he is.
 
If I call Brent, he’ll
arrest everybody and me and Ash right along with them.
 
You’re the only one I could call.”

Charles
could hear the distress in his son’s voice, and although they were adults and
could do whatever they wanted to do, he knew he had to go.
 
Ashley being fun-lover was one thing.
 
He could try to dissuade her from living that
kind of lifestyle, but in the end it was her life, her body.
 
But Ashley doing drugs was something
altogether different.
 
That was a scary
thing.
 
That was not going to
happen.
 
“Give me the address,” he said.
 
“I’m on my way.”

He
arrived at the house party less than fifteen minutes later.
 
There were so many cars that Charles had to
park his Jaguar near the end of the street and walk to the party scene.
 
And Donald was not exaggerating.
 
The party was on a secluded street, at a
grand estate, and was out of control with partiers.
 
Donald looked flustered as he met his father
at the end of the driveway.

“Thanks
for coming, Dad,” he said.

Charles
gave his son a hard look.
 
He knew he
suffered from Depression and was on medication.
 
He wondered if he had taken his meds today.
 

But
Donald disabused him of that thought immediately. “I’m not overreacting, Dad,”
he said.
 
“I took my meds.
 
I’m just concerned about Ash.”

Charles
nodded.
 
Donald and Ash were close, and
looked out for each other.
 
They also
were the two he often worried about the most.
 
Carly was younger, and Bonita was his baby, but both of them seemed to
have more common sense than Donald and Ash ever displayed. “Where is she?” he
asked.

“Follow
me,” Donald said, and escorted him inside the house.
 

And
Donald was right about the drugs too.
 
Charles saw cocaine, he saw pills, he saw drugs he didn’t even know the
names of.
 
And his daughter was caught up
in this scene?
 
As Donald escorted him up
the stairs to a bedroom that he believed Ashley had entered, Charles couldn’t
get to her fast enough.
 
And he was
getting angrier with every step he took.

Inside
that bedroom, Ashley and a young black man whose name she didn’t even know, was
making out hard.
 
She had her shirt
unbuttoned and he was sucking her breasts.
 
By the time Charles opened the bedroom door without knocking, the boy
had sucked her breasts so hard that they were wet and aching.
 

Charles
was not stunned by what he saw.
 
She was
old enough.
 
But he also saw what looked
like ecstasy pills of some sort on the nightstand.
 
Drugs.
 
That was the problem.

Ashley,
however, saw the problem as soon as the bedroom door opened and Charles and
Donald walked in.
 
She jumped out of bed
with shock in her eyes.
 
“Daddy!” she
said in a stunned voice, closing her blouse.

The
boy, stunned too, jumped out of bed also, with his dick completely aroused and
his shirt completely off.
 

Ashley,
to his further shock, immediately started crying.
 
“I told him to stop,” she said.
 
The young man and Donald both looked at
her.
 
“But he wouldn’t,” she
continued.
 
“He tried to rape me,
Dad.
 
He was raping me!”

The
young man was stunned.
 
“That’s not
true!” he yelled. “Why are you lying like that?
 
I didn’t rape her, sir.
 
I didn’t
try to rape her!
 
I swear to you, I
didn’t try---”

“I
know you didn’t,” Charles said firmly.

Ashley
was surprised by her father’s response.
 
“What are you saying?” she asked with shock in her voice.
 
“He raped me!”

“Get
out of here,” Charles said to the young man.
 
“Now!”

The
young man grabbed his shirt, glanced at Ashley in anger, and at his drugs in
regret that he couldn’t take them with him, and he left, slamming the door
behind him.

And
then it was Ashley and Charles, with Donald looking on.

Charles
began to approach her.
 
She wanted to
back up, but there was nowhere to go.
 
“He tried to rape me, Dad,” Ashley said.
 
“Don’t believe him.
 
He was---”

But
she didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, because Charles slapped her
hard across the face.
 
So hard that
Ashley’s face snapped sideways by the blow, and Donald grabbed his own face,
knowing how much it had to hurt.

Ashley
held onto her fast-reddening cheek with pain in her eyes.

“Who
do you think you’re dealing with?” Charles asked her, anger in his eyes.
 
“You think I’m some fucking idiot?”

“But
it’s true!” Ashley insisted.
 
“He tried
to rape---”

“If you
tell that lie one more time,” Charles said, “I declare I’ll beat your ass right
now.
 
Say it one more time!”

Ashley
wanted to tell even taller tales if it would get her out of this tough spot,
but she knew her father.
 
She didn’t say
a word.

“Button
your blouse,” Charles ordered, and looked around the room as she buttoned
up.
 

He
walked over to the nightstand and looked at the assembled pills.
 
Then he looked at her.
 
“Did you take any of this shit?” he asked
her.

“No,”
she said quickly.

“I am
going to take you straightaway to the hospital to have them conduct a drug
test.
 
If they so much as find any drugs
in your system, I will give those results to Brent and have your ass arrested.
 
Now you tell me the truth.
 
Did you take any of these drugs around here?”

Ashley
glanced at Donald. “I did some pot,” she said.
 
“But that’s it.
 
I’m no fool.”

“Pot
is bad for you too,” Donald said.

“Shut
up!” Ashley said to him.
 
“You sound just
like Carly.”

“I
can’t stand that obnoxious girl,” Donald said, “don’t compare me to her!
 
I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“Let’s
go,” Charles said, motioning for her to leave.

“Are
you going to tell Ma about any of this?” Ashley asked.

“You
mean am I going to have a secret with you and keep it from my wife?” Charles
asked.
 
“Hell no!
 
I’m telling her everything.
 
Now get your ass out of here!”

And
Ashley, followed by Donald and Charles, walked out.
 
Donald hurried up beside Ashley as they made
their way downstairs.

“I
told you Daddy don’t play,” he said.
 
“He
almost knocked me out cold once.
 
All he
did was slap you.”

Ashley
pushed him away from her and hurried on down in front of him.
 
She was embarrassed and angry too.
 
She didn’t need his sympathy.
 
Donald, flustered, looked back at his
father.
 

“You
did the right thing, son,” he said to Donald.

Donald
usually felt better when his father complimented him.
 
But not this time.
 
Ashley was his best friend.
 
She stood by him and understood him better
than any human being alive. He hated with a passion being on the outs with her.